


retrieval

by Cypherr



Series: Hollow [17]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: 'cause it's minecraft y'all they respawn, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Phil's pov of retrieved, Temporary Character Death, Vilbur, Villain Wilbur Soot, dadza is still here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27874634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypherr/pseuds/Cypherr
Summary: "You know damn well why I'm here, Wilbur, so let's get straight to the fucking point- hand him over. Now."
Relationships: TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Hollow [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958773
Comments: 21
Kudos: 552





	retrieval

**Author's Note:**

> YOOOOOOOO this one is actually pretty long. And Phil POV!!! POG!!!!!!

He could see them now, tens of blocks below him. He was surprised that Wil had brought Tommy, honestly. Wilbur was usually more strategic than that. Though, he supposedly this wasn't the Wil he knew.

He landed swiftly, wings tucked tight against his back as he dived towards the flower field before snapping them open right before he hit the ground.

" _Wilbur_ ," he seethed, eyes shadowed in rage and betrayal. This was his _son,_ after all, and he had fucked everyone up like it was some kind of sick game to him.

Wil looked up, the hold he had around Tommy's slumped form tightening.

"You aren't supposed to be here, _Phil_ ," he growled back, eyes flashing dangerously in the low light of the stars.

"You know damn well why I'm here, Wilbur, so let's get straight to the fucking point- hand him over. _Now_ ," he bit, teeth bared as he stepped forward, talons sinking into the damp dirt beneath. His gaze was zeroed in on Tommy's shaking shoulders and the knot of a blindfold that he could see beneath his golden hair.

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Phil," Wilbur began, voice low with unspoken promises of violence. "You lost that right when you _left us_!" He finished, voice rising with every new word, For a moment, he could see the old Wil- wide, glossy brown eyes, features soft and open, the minute trembling of his bottom lip. The moment didn't last long, however as the brunette quickly schooled his features into a carefully blank mask.

"I didn't leave you, Wil. You wanted to go out on your own and I tried to respect that. You think I didn't miss you?" Notch, he had missed his kids. Techno had hardly been in the house since the moment he turned eighteen all those years ago, choosing to travel around the hub for tournaments or to simply hand in other servers. He understood, though. Techno values his freedom and he knew his family was safe back home. Then, when Wilbur had left for a new SMP server, and Tommy had trailed behind him like always, it nearly broke him. The boys he had raised were all gone, now, too old to stay with their old man. Mornings passed in silence, no shouting to be heard and certainly nothing to be broken when a playful fight accidentally got out of hand. There was no one to seek his quiet comfort in the late hours of the night, and no one to watch over and keep safe. But, he understood that they had to move on eventually- that they had to be independent and learn to grow on their own terms.

"Wilbur, I cried nearly every day after you two left! I love you, and Tommy, and Techno with all of my aching heart, but I knew you were off to grow as your own man, to discover the world for yourself. I stayed back because I respected that. But _this_?" He motioned toward the pair still on the ground with an unsteady hand. "This is unacceptable, Wilbur. You could have come home when things got to be too much for you to handle. I was just a letter away and I would have come, Wil. You're my _son_." He meant every word of it. Wilbur may have lost his way, and he wished, desperately, that he would have reached out- that _any_ of them would have reached out- but he was here now. He could- he could fix this.

"Shut up!" he shouted, face contorted with intense emotion- with rage and fury and betrayal. "Shut. Up," he finished, teeth bared and shoulders hunched, practically covering the blonde boy in his lap.

"You don't get to preach to me about love Tommy is _mine_! _Mine_! And none of you sick fucks can have him!"

"Wil-" he stepped forward again, trying to get closer to his boys, but stopped dead in his tracks when Wilbur whipped Tommy around and pressed a place to his bared throat. His heart plummeted at the sight of the thin, white scar that spanned its width. This had happened before.

"Not another fucking stop or I'll do it." He didn't even get a chance to reply before Tommy was crying out- the first time he'd spoken during the entire encounter.

"I was good, Wilby- I swear! I swear!" He sobbed, and he could see him try to worm his way out of his brother's harsh grip- to back away from the dagger that threatened to take his life. He was sickened when Wilbur spoke to him, a nauseating facsimile of comfort and reassurance.

"Shh, Shh, You're okay," he soothed, pressing a gentle kiss to the space above his ear like he wasn't the one threatening the kid in the first place. "I'm only doing this to protect you, okay? If I have to kill you it's so we can still be together." Another kiss. "You're being such a good boy, Toms. I love you." Tommy went limp with visible effort, still hiccuping as he choked back cries. Fuck, what had happened to his boys? Should he not have let them go? Would it have prevented this? He almost wanted to blame Schlatt, as he supposed that's where this insanity started, but he could never truly blame him. He may not have seen the kid in a while, but he was still like another son to him. (He and Wil used to be so close. There _had_ to be more to this.)

"Wilbur, don't do this," he held out a hand, trying to show that he had no intention to harm either of them. He wanted to solve this peacefully, after all. Not doing so would mean he had to hurt _his children_. Wil only grinned, lips pulled too far back with unholy intentions. Then the iron blade was digging into Tommy's neck and the kid wailed, thrashing in his brother's grip, and he _lunged_.

He yanked Wil's arm away from Tommy's neck, tossing Wilbur to the side with a powerful flick of a wing and watching him skid along the earth. He could hear Tommy sobbing from where he laid on the ground behind him, and his heart ached as he listened, but his safety had to be his first priority. He couldn't let Wilbur out of his sight.

"Wilbur threw himself off the torn ground when he had finally stopped, yanking a diamond sword out of his inventory and charging headfirst, sword raised recklessly. He felt as if he was falling apart as he deflected the weapon with a well-placed swipe of his hand, disarming the man, and he stumbled back, expression of righteous fury never leaving. He caught the blade, holding it in front of him, staying on the defensive. Wil grabbed his dagger, charging once more, and with a shattered heart, he plunged his diamond blade through his _son's_ chest. He watched as Wilbur's body stuttered, face scrunching in confusion as he gazed down at the sword. His grip fell slack and the dagger clattered to the dirt.

"Oh," the brunette whispered before slumping over and fading into smoke, set to respawn. He dropped the sword on the grass, refusing to acknowledge the blood that covered it. He wiped his eyes, collecting himself before he made his way over to Tommy.

"W-ILby," Tommy cried out- voice cracking- as soon as he knelt down behind his trembling form. He had heard the ping of Tommy's comm as it tumbled to the ground after Wilbur's body dissipated and he knew Tommy did too. He watched, agonized and hesitant as he hovered over his son, as the boy curled into himself and sobbed his heart out, choking on his own breath and tears.

He set a gentle hand on his shoulder, eventually, careful of his razor-sharp talons. Tommy only whined, shuddering and trying to wiggle away.

"Not Wilbs. Not Wilbs. Not Wilbs," he chanted, voice weak and shakey as he struggled to draw air into his lungs.

"shh, Toms- breathe," he spoke, voice much more solid and confident than he felt. He moved his hand up to Tommy's muddied locks, combing his hand through them like he used to do when his sons' were young and awoke terrified from a nightmare. He felt Tommy lean into his ministrations, the kid still crying his heart out.

"It's alright, Toms. I'm here now," he whispered, trying to get him to calm down even just a smidgen.

"Not- not Wilby. Want- want Wilby," he stuttered, breaking into a coughing fit afterward, hunched shoulders heaving with the effort. He sighed, knowing he was getting nowhere, and dragged a claw across the silk that covered the boy's eyes, watching as the fabric slid to the ground and Tommy blinked blearily at his surroundings, taking in the scenery.

He gently tugged the kid onto his back and Tommy just let him, staring up with a blank gaze, his normal sky blue eyes clouded. He smiled the best he could manage, doing his best to sever the lead that bound him, holding back a flinch every time Tommy whined when he would accidentally agitate the raw, damaged skin. His heart was in his throat the entire time. He never wanted anything like this to ever occur- knew even thought of it as a possibility. His little boy was so broken and it was his other son's fault. How did- how was he supposed to fix this? He was one man. One man who was not prepared for any of this shit. (But he had to fix it. It was his duty as a father. His punishment for his failures.)

He broke further when Tommy reached out to grip his shirt, like he used to do when he was six and needed something to ground him, just for a moment.

"Dad?" he whispered, words barely audible even in the silence of the night.

"I'm here, Toms." And with those words, a new wave of tears fell from his eyes, bottom lip trembling, nose red and running, and breath hitching in his throat. He wailed, clutching onto Phil's shirt as if his life depended on it when he scooped him up in his arms. He felt so small as he held him, face buried in the crook of Phil's neck, despite the fact that he was actually taller than he was. (It reminded him of when Tommy was seven, and he had seen Wilbur drunk for the first time. He wasn't sure where Wil got the alcohol or why, but he knew better than to ask. Knew that Wil would come to him if he really needed to, but Tommy was little and it scared him to see his big brother Wilbs so different from his bright, bubbly self. He didn't think Wilbur was overtly cruel to the kid, but to Tommy's young mind, the slurred 'go away's were enough to bring him to tears.)

He returned his hand to Tommy's hair, knowing it was one of the few things that calmed him. (That, along with oversized sweaters he stole from his brothers and the music discs he'd found the first time he had ever adventure on his own at thirteen years old. He remembered when he had come home, covered head to toe in zombie's guts and bleeding from a nasty cut in his hairline, but his grin was blinding and infectious as he raved about all the 'poggers' treasure he had found. He was so excited about the music discs, and it was the first and only- to his knowledge- time that Techno had actually vocalized that he was round of Tommy. They'd been his most prized possessions ever since, kept near and dear to his heart.)

"Let's go home to Tech, okay?"

"Wan' Wilby," Tommy whimpered, clinging impossibly tighter.

"I know, bubba." And he wished he hadn't felt Tommy cower at the nickname that they had all grown so used to calling him over the years. It tore him apart to know that something that once brought his little boy such happiness- even if he got embarrassed by the nickname once he grew older- was now tarnished.

He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of Tommy's head in apology, humming as he continued to pet him and cradle him close. 

It was a long while before he stopped shaking in his grasp, finally relaxing giant him. The moon had traveled quite a distance across the sky and it was likely only a couple of hours until dawn arrived.

" 'm tired, dad," he slurred, exhaustion clearly weighing him down now that the adrenaline had disappeared.

"Just stay with me a little longer, m'kay?" Tommy nodded sluggishly, eyes lidded with the struggle of keeping them open.

"Just until we get back to the White House." With that said, Phil scooped him up, an arm supporting his back and one under his knees, and stood, carrying him in his arms like he hadn't done since before he turned ten. It was a bit awkward considering that Tommy was quite a bit taller than he was, but he made do, pushing himself off of the ground with a powerful flap of his wings.

Tommy had dozed off on the flight back, but he didn't have the heart to wake the kid. He was heavier now that he was practically dead weight as he slumbered, but he looked so peaceful, the muscles in his face finally relaxed- he looked like a kid again. The kid he should be. Notch above and Herobrine below, Tommy was still so young. His little boy had been through too much. 

He knew that all teenagers wanted to be independent- he'd raised two others and he himself had been one once, long ago in the now-abandoned cites of the end.

The flight was short, all things considered, and he was grateful for it as his back ached with the strain of carrying more weight than he was used to. Dream was stood at the doorway of the sitting room Techno was sitting in. (If Techno's sleeping was less voluntary and more induced, the hybrid didn't need to know. He couldn't have risked Techno losing his temper again in such a fragile situation.) The admin's forest-green eyes were wide with concern, freckled face pale as he saw Tommy's red eyes and chafed, bruised wrists and ankles. He quickly moved out of the way, trailing a bit behind him as Phil entered the room still kept warm by the roaring fire, and set him down on the plush, red armchair that was closest to the fire and directly across from Techno.

The movement must have startled him because soon there was a weak grip on his pant leg and a teary-eyed Tommy staring up at him.

"Don' go," he whined, clearing struggling to get the words out as his sleep-addled brain lagged behind. He turned, crouching in front of the chair, and cupped Tommy's cheek softly before running it up and through his hair. The blue-eyed boy briefly closed his eyes with a sigh of content.

"I'll get Dream to get a regen, then," he said, never breaking eye contact with Tommy as he heard Dream go to retrieve the potion as prompted. Tommy just blinked slowly at him, trying his best to keep his eyes open as sleep tried to claim him once more. He hummed a small tune and watched as Tommy fell victim to unconsciousness once again.

Dream returned fairly quickly after tracking a regeneration potion down, handing him the pot before going and sitting on the arm of the couch Techno occupied. Phil removed the cork, pouring a small amount on the wound on Tommy's wrists, beginning to massage the liquid into his skin. Tommy jumped at the burning sensation he knew he was feeling, trying to yank his arms from his grip, whimpering in his sleep-muddled, pain-filled daze.

"Shh, I know it hurts, Toms. Just a little longer, okay?" He nodded, biting his lip as he clearly tried his best to obey. The sting didn't last for much longer, fading into a numbing chill as the last of Tommy's skin was regenerated.

He wasted no time in lifting the tired boy into his arms, holding back a chuckle at the surprised squeak he let out. After he had sat back with Tommy in his lap, tucked safely under his chin, he began to treat Tommy's ankles, feeling terrible as he felt tears soak his neck and shakey hands grip his shirt.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Toms," He whispered in reassurance. It was over soon, though, Tommy replacing once again, only moving so he could rest fully against Phil. As Tommy's breathing began to even out, he hummed a soft lullaby, one that he had sung to the boy once upon a time- one he had learned long ago from the endermen that traversed his city's halls.

"I wan' Wilbs," Tommy mumbled before finally nodding off. Phil sighed sadly, knowing that there was nothing he could do at the moment besides _be there_. he'd fight for his boys. He'd fix this- somehow. ( ~~Would he?~~ )


End file.
